


Dark

by kurokobun



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Crimes & Criminals, M/M, Psycho Pass AU, Romance, commission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 20:13:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5178173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurokobun/pseuds/kurokobun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Himuro's hue is getting cloudier and cloudier so he is encouraged to go into therapy, but even if there is a remote chance of it saving him, he isn't willing to give up his one sinful source of happiness. No one said loving an enforcer was ever easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark

_“[I]t was with a good end in mind – that of acquiring the knowledge of good and evil – that Eve allowed herself to be carried away and eat the forbidden fruit. But Adam was not moved by this desire for knowledge, but simply by greed: he ate it because he heard Eve say it tasted good.”_

-o-

The corridor feels somehow longer than usual. Of course that is false; the corridor’s dimensions has not changed since the last time he had made his way to the Chief’s office. He supposes he can blame it on exhaustion. Being an inspector for the Public Safety Bureau has him working around the clock and even when he has time to sleep Himuro Tatsuya has found himself unable to.

As he steps in front of the door at the very end of the corridor he knocks swiftly with his knuckles. There’s a confirmation for his entrance and he steps inside, eyes going to the chief seated by his desk. “Shirogane-san… you wanted to see me.”

The middle-aged man barely spares him a glance at first, his eyes glued to the computer screen in front of him. It is not before Himuro finds himself narrowing his eyes in the chief’s direction that Shirogane raises his head, fingers running through his hair before his eyes finally fixes themselves to his employee.

“Himuro-san, I have something to discuss with you. First off, however, I’d like to ask how Division 1 is doing.”

“You get our reports.”

“Of course, but I’d still like to hear it from you, personally. I’m not so naïve I don’t believe certain details are left out of reports. It’s a very… human thing to do.” There’s something unsettling about Shirogane, Himuro has always thought so, but after having worked for the Safety Bureau as long as he has, he has grown quite used to it.

“Inspector Kuroko is… unorthodox, but nonetheless his methods are effective.”

Himuro doesn’t have a foul opinion of his colleague, as people seem to think. Due to his poker face it has often been assumed that he hides his feelings behind a mask and they’re not completely wrong, but people tend to think the worst of others. Himuro may be envious of a lot of things – and honestly most would ague he has every reason to if they knew him – but that doesn’t make him an irrationally jealous person. He’s been trained to stand above such. So even if Kuroko-kun is going against the very code they preach here at the Safety Bureau and somehow has still been able to keep his hue as clear as the sky in June (in addition to performing excellent work with _Himuro’s_ former partner), he cannot find it in himself to hate the boy or even feel the least bit dislike towards him.

If anything, strangely enough, Himuro is relieved that of the two of them he is the one taking the blows. Rather him than Kuroko-kun. He feels… oddly protective of the boy, wanting him to succeed. Perhaps because he has something special or perhaps because Himuro is seeing light in Kagami’s eyes for the first time in years.

Funny how despite the anger he long harbored for his stepbrother, he wants him to be happy. In the end.

“I warned you when you first started working here, both you and Kagami-san if I recall correctly.” Shirogane’s voice breaks through Himuro’s thoughts and the inspector raises his head, feeling himself stiffen. “I always expected Kagami would fall, but I had high hopes for you…” His boss makes a sound with his lips that would have made Himuro’s eyes narrow if not for the fact that he’d been expecting this.

“I don’t have time to go into therapy with all the cases. I have–“

“– responsibilities.” Shirogane’s eyes look into his and Himuro cannot help but notice just how lifeless they are, but not in the usual way. It’s different. As if there was no life there to begin with. It worries him. “If anyone is aware of your responsibilities it’s me. You choose to do what you must, but I still demand that you see a therapist for at least twice a week. If you want to keep your job.”

Himuro does want to keep his job, so he doesn’t say anything more, but despite himself his hands ball into fists by his thighs as he grits his teeth together to maintain his emotionless exterior. Question is, will it even help him?

–––

He doesn’t like therapists for the obvious reason that they demand for you to relive the most painful memories you have; not at once, of course. They start off slow, digging a bit deeper for each time (if their methods are successful) to peel off the hard layer to find the root of the problem. Now, Himuro likes to believe he’s over a lot of the pain from his past, but as he learns after a few months in therapy, he has overestimated himself.

Even if he is clearly a hard nut to crack, Nijimura-san seems to have an odd fondness for him. However, fondness does not change the man’s motives of giving him what he needs to clear his hue. Which, thus far, has been unsuccessful.

Njimura-san pours him tea, just like he always does when he first comes inside, acknowledging him with a soft smile Himuro somehow knows is unusual for him. His training considered, Himuro himself is not bad at reading into people; he did exceptionally well in his Psychology courses during his Academy days.

Ironically, it’s that fraction of his past Nijimura-san intends to embark on for this particular session.

“You waited a year to enroll in the Academy despite their interest in you due to your grades and credits.” Nijimura-san lowers the folder in his hand, raising an interested eyebrow in his direction. “Any particular reason for the gap year?”

Himuro sips his tea. “I suppose you wouldn’t believe me if I said I wanted to work up some money before educating myself.”

“Hardly. It’s unorthodox enough to have a gap year on your resume in this day and age and something tells me money wasn’t your first issue. Your father is a partner owner of a law firm.”

“He’s not really _my_ father.”

Nijimura-san gets that gleam of interest again that Himuro knows, from experience, means he has found something to latch onto. “Stepfather,” is all he says at first, before glancing down at the papers he withdraws from Himuro’s file. “You waited for your younger stepbrother to enroll so you would share living expenses and so that you would finish simultaneously.”

It’s not really a _question_ so Himuro doesn’t answer.

Nijimura-san continues. “You both enrolled, you doing fairly well academically, far beyond your brother’s achievements, but he bested you in everything physical.” Their eyes lock onto each other and Himuro feels himself clench his jaw. “That must have been… _frustrating_.”

“Are you suggesting that my withering hue stems from an issue I had far back then?” Himuro doesn’t let any emotion show as he brushes his bangs away from his attractive face, duly noting that like most people Nijimura-san’s eyes fix to the scar running over his left eye.

“It’s not uncommon at all that the root of a withering hue comes from far back. However, a severely withering hue only really happens when that kind of issue is not resolved or… enhanced.” Nijimura-san puts his tea away. “Why don’t you tell me about your last year of the academy and… the following three years of service.”

Still keeping his poker face in place, Himuro does as asked. “My last year of the Academy I was not living with Taiga. He had an own roommate that he had befriended and I… had done the same thing.”

“Murasakibara Atsushi, hm?” Nijimura-san leans his head on his hand, elbow on the armrest of his chair. “He did very well, didn’t he? Until that last year.”

Himuro purses his lips, but continues. “Yes, he did. He was… an enigma. Moody – _childish_ – with an… almost addiction for sweets. At first, we didn’t get along, but we were paired as partners for a lot of the practical training sessions like combat so we were forced to put our differences aside to reach our… potential. He was very powerful, just hard to motivate, but eventually…” Himuro pauses. “… eventually it seemed as he was doing his best for my sake, not just his own.”

“You became… close?”

Himuro looks away for the first time. “Yes.”

“Did he get along with your stepbrother?”

“Hardly. They were too different, but they tried. For my sake, knowing I’d like spend time with my brother and best friend at the same time on occasion.” Himuro once more quiets down but Nijimura-san waits and he knows he still has a lot of time before he’s let out; if he wants his hue clear he supposes he has to do what must be done no matter how vulnerable it makes him feel. “Then, during our last year I had… a stalker.”

“Hanamiya Makoto. One of the… special cases.”

Himuro smiled humorlessly. Special cases; usually a term found in a report the microscopically few instances in which the Sybil system does not seem to judge a person… accordingly. Even to this day that case is the only one Himuro knows off in his five years of service, including his five other years in the Academy in which very little was informed about these cases, no doubt due to their rarity.

“He didn’t… give off a cloudy hue. It was clear as the day, even if his behavior was worrisome.” Himuro bites his lip. “He was incredibly smart; to a very scary degree. He seemed… _jealous_ of Atsu– _Murasakibara_ ’s power and our teamwork. His plan was to convince me to switch partners. It was our last year… even if A– _Murasakibara_ and I somehow were still not very fond of each other I’d still would have said no due to the circumstances. Partners are used very seriously for the final examinations to imitate. I said no, obviously, declined and thought that would be it, but… Hanamiya didn’t take no for an answer.”

“He was going to take you out. His hue was somehow still clear; it would rid him of suspicion if he was able to murder you.”

“Yes.”

There’s a rather uncomfortable silence. At least for Himuro. He’s not used to being examined to this extent and although a part of him wish to stop, there’s another part that can’t do anything that might jeopardize his hue further. He’ll do what it takes to keep himself clear as long as he can.

“He should have been able to kill you if not for an unexpected factor.”

“Murasakibara was going home to see his parents, so of course that was why Hanamiya had decided to take me out that weekend. He planned to stage it as if it appeared I’d committed suicide. Hues tend to be a bit unstable during the final examinations, there have been cases of people needing therapy due to the pressure and usually if they have those instances on their record, they might be dismissed from work which in itself can be soul-crushing.” Himuro fiddles with the ring around his neck. “But Murasakibara’s parents had called last minute to cancel on him, they were going out of town to visit one of his siblings instead.”

“He came back.”

“I’d been drugged enough that I couldn’t move. I was aware and conscious, I could hear and see –“

“He used a paralyzing agent.”

“Yes. I recognized it from a lecture I attended way back about a serial killer who had used the same material to keep his victims awake as he let them bleed out.” Himuro does not like to admit that he shivers a little as he remembers the feeling of being numb, watching Hanamiya’s smile as he stands over him with a robe that he’s tied into a signature hook. He swallows and continues with a steady voice that does not give away his moment of weakness. “Murasakibara walks in on it; Hanamiya runs out of our dorm and he goes after him. He’s… outraged, isn’t thinking…”

Nijimura lifts up the file again, reading through it with interest. “He smashes the display that has an older dominator model in it,” he reads from the report. “This was before the authorization feature was embedded into the code, but rather needed a small chip with the authorized eye patterns. The chip is not there, so neither is any need for authorization to use it.”

Himuro is not looking up at him. “Hanamiya… after having gone so long with such physiological disturbances somehow could still not be detected by Sibyl’s scans, but the moment this _happens_ …”

“It’s not uncommon. He’s gone from thinking about murder to intending to commit it, pushing him over the edge.” Nijimura licks the tip of his finger to make it easier to flip over to another page of the report.

“Yeah.”

“Murasakibara Atsushi kills him with the dominator, clouding his hue beyond repair. Ultimately, he is at once considered a latent criminal and is taken away.” Nijimura-san glances at Himuro again, snapping the folder closed for the second time of their session. “You’re not a mystery to me, Himuro-san, if I may be so… bold.” The therapist stands up and goes over to make himself a second cup of tea. “I used to be a loose canon, but studying the physiological mind somehow cured my hue. That and a lot of therapy, but I didn’t deal with first losing my best friend to the title of Latent Criminal and then, later, stepbrother. It’s clear to me that your current problem was inevitable.”

“I did _not_ show _any_ signs of –”

“It does not matter whether it affected your hue then. It is affecting it _now_.” Nijimura glances behind his shoulder. Himuro is upset, he can tell, so he sighs and drops sugar into his tea. “Why don’t we call it a day? For now.”

“Thank you.” Himuro is quick to get up and grab his messenger bag for only to freeze when Nijimura opens his mouth next.

“He took your eye. Put his knife over the left side of your face. That is why Murasakibara lost control, isn’t it? Truly, Himuro-san, I am astonished you didn’t crack a long, long time ago.”

Himuro slams the door on his way out.

–––

He’s a hypocrite. Or maybe that isn’t the right definition of what he is; perhaps he is in denial, perhaps he is purposely creating an image of himself and his situation that seems different than what it really is. Because Himuro knows what Nijimura-san is telling him. The notion that this – his clouding, darkening hue – was just a matter of time does not surprise him. And how could it when he is in love with an enforcer.

Himuro Tatsuya is only normal after all.

He glances quietly over at Kuroko Tetsuya whose suit is unbuttoned enough due to a hasty morning that Himuro can detect the hickeys littering the younger man’s neck. Possessively many, but not so red that Kuroko-kun’s partner can be deemed as anything other than gentle. Disturbingly enough, Himuro knows his stepbrother better than he thought he did.

Kuroko-kun’s hue is what everyone aspires theirs to be. Clear, pure, not a single blemish of dark in any nook or corner. But Himuro knows those hickeys have been appearing for six months now; knows that the smile Kuroko-kun started wearing appeared, knows the lingering looks and brushes of hands between Kuroko-kun and Himuro’s stepbrother increased drastically, all around the same time.

Kuroko Tetsuya is in love with en enforcer too, but his hue is healthy, clear as a blue, blue sky.

–––

The room is completely dark save from the light coming from the window with a radiant view of the city. It illuminates just enough that Himuro can see Murasakibara’s face as he runs his fingers over the giant’s taught arms. His eyes flutter close, lips capturing his deeply as he’s pressed further against the wall. His mind feels strangely hazy, a combination of intense arousal and exhaustion from a long day at work, handling sobbing civilians after a ruthless attack.

In other words, just another day in paradise, Himuro thinks almost bitterly, before he let that part of him slip away to focus on what Murasakibara is doing to his neck.

“Muro-chin.” His hushed whisper causes Himuro to shiver and he clutches around the giant man’s neck, leaning his head back to expose his neck even further, inviting the tongue to slide over his pulse point, to bite down to mark; it’s fine, it’s okay, because Himuro has started to realize nothing can save him… them.

“A-Atsushi,” he murmurs erotically; fingers slide up into the purple hair, pulls and the growl he gets out of it causes him once more to shiver.

There’s a part of him that wonders if he could just stay like this forever and do this forever, let it consume him and overtake him wholeheartedly instead of having to return to a world where he and Atsushi aren’t supposed to be anything more than an inspector and an enforcer, but a second part interrupts him and reminds him that if they keep doing this it won’t be long before his hue is beyond saving.

He gasps; a big hand has shoved itself down his pants. He thrusts his hips upwards. He doesn’t deny it. He knows what will come of him when his hue finally reaches the point where he’ll lose his inspector title. He’ll be an enforcer, but will he stay with Atsushi? Will they be pulled apart? He doesn’t know and that is what scares him.

Yet, he cannot stop. He never wants to stop.

For the longest time Himuro has felt it as if he was drowning, slipping further and further into dark depths of water, but in Atsushi’s presence he can breathe, he can feel everything that he otherwise shields away and again, he thinks bitterly, that is just another day in paradise. In paradise one suffers for allowing oneself happiness.

“You’re distracted, Muro-chin,” Murasakibara notes quietly. He has pulled away from Himuro’s neck and is looking him deeply in the eyes instead.

Himuro looks back. Atsushi’s eyes are beautiful like this, passionate, such a contrast to the usual dullness. Yet, Himuro loves that look just the same, which means he truly does love this man, doesn’t he? He accepts Atsushi’s flaws, Atsushi accepts his, and perhaps, if it hadn’t been for that last year at the Academy, they truly could be happy instead of leaving their fate to uncertainty.

“I…” Himuro groans as Murasakibara runs his thumb over a sore nipple. “… Atsushi…”

“Muro-chin can talk. If he wants to.” A tongue runs over the other nipple and Himuro’s back arches with his moans. That tongue; Himuro briefly remembers the first time Murasakibara had pulled down his jeans, nuzzled into his crotch and used that tongue on him. The flashback makes him squirm, unintentionally much.

“A-ah… I’m afraid it’s a bit hard… to talk…” He gasps again. The hand and tongue have switched nipples. “W-when we do this.”

Mursakibara’s fingers hold his hips firmly and their crotches brush together as the bigger of them humps into him. Such bliss. Can’t he just embrace this, this sin, this ecstasy without thinking of the darkening hue, without thinking of Nijimura’s look every time he’s there, speaking words of his past that cannot be changed.

They kiss. Deeply.

Himuro groans with need as Murasakibara picks him up next, his big hands keeping him firm as the moves them to bed. The king sized bed’s mattress catches Himuro’s back softly as he’s slipped down. He likes the sensation of being handled like this perhaps a bit too much. Languishing control has never been easy for him but with Atsushi… somehow with Atsushi everything his different.

Himuro takes care of Murasakibara. That is what everyone says and they are not wrong. Himuro takes care of the giant enforcer on a lot of levels, but when they’re like this Himuro is the one being taken care of and he likes it, he loves it, and he is addicted to it. To Atsushi’s strength, to his rough voice in his ear, to his big body pressing him down. It’s what he wants; it’s what he craves. More than anything.

“I love you, Muro-chin,” the hoarse whisper causes Himuro to open the eyes he’s been keeping shut for the last minute in which Murasakibara has effectively reduced him to a moaning, needy mess. The purple haired man must find amusement as well as satisfaction in the control he has over him, but Himuro lets him have it.

With Atsushi… _everything_ , somehow, is all right.

So what will he do if they’re pulled apart?

“I love you too.”

He really does. It’s what’s doomed him, or at least part of what’s doomed him. At first he was angry, they fought, then… he decided to see what happened if he tried to undo the damage and still let himself be happy. Thus far, it doesn’t seem like the damage can be undone, but Himuro isn’t willing to give up Atsushi for the sake of his hue.

But the intense fear of the unknown still holds him down, threatening to choke him.

Clothes are ripped off, thrown to the floor. Himuro whispers that they can talk tomorrow, and Murasakibara doesn’t push it, he never does. He’s easier to deal with than people are aware of, Himuro thinks as he arches his back, at least not for Himuro himself.

Atsushi eases his way into him, the tight fit causing more moans of pleasure to slip past Himuro’s lips. His head swims and he absently feels the giant’s hand cradle the back of his head as they both grunt and groan. Himuro pants as he looks up into Atsushi’s face, the purple, long strands of hair so long compared to what they were back at the Academy.

Himuro reaches his hand out, traces it through it as they wait for him to relax enough for Murasakibara to move. At that moment, everything feels like it stands still, even if he does have a rather large erection in him. “Atsushi… kiss me… make me forget.” He doesn’t register that he’s said it before it’s slipped past his lips. It’s too late to take the last part back.

Murasakibara frowns only a little, his cheeks flushed, forehead sweaty from their foreplay. “Forget what, Muro-chin?”

“Everything that isn’t you.”

The frowns eases from Murasakibara’s face, he looks somewhat confused instead, but then determined and Himuro knows he’ll get what he wants.

Murasakibara’s bed rocks due to the purple haired man’s weight as he starts moving. Himuro moans desperately, fingers digging into his lover’s shoulders as the speed quickens. It’s rough and without thorough preparation Himuro knows it would’ve hurt, but it’s no pain, just overwhelming need and pleasure. This, this _right here_ is what he doesn’t want to lose as he loses the clear hue.

Right there as Murasakibara thrusts into him and their lips meet in a strong, bruising kiss, Himuro doesn’t care about a title, about a job he’s worked so hard to maintain, because it occurs to him that even if he kept his job and Murasakibara was taken away instead of his clear hue he still wouldn’t be happy, but if he gets to keep Murasakibara… then he knows, deep within himself, that he will be.

He hears himself laugh into Murasakibara’s mouth, and even if it’s muffled slightly due to the combination of laughter, lips, and moans, Atsushi hears it loud and clear.

“W-what’s funny, Muro-chin?”

“N-nothing… I’m just happy with you, Atsushi.”

He gasps at a particular hard thrust; head throwing itself back as his back arches dramatically. His toes curl, because his prostate was just brushed and it felt amazing as always. He takes a deep breath, fingers move up into Murasakibara’s hair again, curls into it, tugs and Murasakibara, like before, growls, mouth nuzzling into his neck.

Atsushi bites down on the same spot he’d been sucking on during their foreplay just as he comes. Himuro feels it inside of him and with one final thrust to his prostate he comes too, body going limp briefly as he’s overwhelmed with a washing feeling of pleasure.

He swallows thickly; eyes fluttering close as he pants. Murasakibara has collapsed on top of him and Himuro doesn’t know why but he doesn’t want him to move despite how heavy he is on top of him. His fingers have loosened, right hand having slipped down to stroke the back of his lover’s neck, the other still in the purple, long hair.

“Muro-chin… Muro-chin you’re shaking.” Confused, Murasakibara pushes himself up enough so he can look at the older man’s face. His violent eyes widen. Tears. With an growling, low voice he asks: “Who… who hurt you, Muro-chin. I’ll crush them. I’ll make them pay. I’ll _kill_ them.”

Himuro is absently happy that Murasakibara at least didn’t jump to the conclusion that what they’d just done was the reason for his tears, and perhaps his possessiveness is somewhat endearing, but Himuro hasn’t cried in years so he is busy trying to realize why… now.

“Atsushi, it’s okay,” he wipes his cheek with the back of his hand, looking at the wetness on his skin. “I… don’t understand why myself, but I’m not hurt.”

The anger is replaced by frustration, which Himuro isn’t surprised by. Murasakibara has never enjoyed the feeling of helplessness. It’s a situation he isn’t in very often, but being in a relationship brings all sort of new experiences, as they’ve both learned by now.

Atsushi leans down and kisses his cheek, face flushed and somewhat embarrassed by the tender action, but compared to how he’d acted when this – _them_ – first started he was far less redder and far less reluctant to do what he had used to refer to as “embarrassing stuff.” Wordlessly, Atsushi strokes his finger over Himuro’s forehead, tracing it down to his temple.

“Muro-chin, I haven’t seen you cry since…” Again Murasakibara frowns in frustration. “I got angry.”

“I know.” Himuro swallows. He crying harder, but he is feeling self-conscious. Only one eye is dripping after all.

“Muro-chin…” Murasakibara’s frustration is laced in his voice now as he brushed Himuro’s bangs away.

For one brief moment Himuro reaches his hand up to stop him mid-motion, but then he breathes, realizing who is going to see the left side of his face. It’s Atsushi… he loves Atsushi.

“I’m sorry… I…”

“You’re beautiful, Muro-chin. Nothing could change that.”

The tip of Murasakibara’s ears are red. Somehow it makes Himuro smile despite the brief surge of anxiety he’d just experienced. With a soft look he brings Murasakibara down to kiss him softly, then, once they’ve pulled away, he wipes the remains of his tears and takes a deep breath again. “I’m… my hue, Atsushi. It’s not going to recover.”

“I never cared about that.”

“No, but I did.”

“I know…”

There’s a moment of silence, dark gray eyes looking into violet ones. “But I’m not… upset about that… about the job, not anymore.”

“Then why are you crying, Muro-chin?” The frown is back and Himuro reaches his hand up to stroke over the giant man’s forehead, his own expression calmer now despite the fact that with Atsushi’s hand in his hair, his entire face is exposed.

“Because I don’t want to be taken away from you if I end up becoming an enforcer. There are already many enforcers in our department. The moment I’m an enforcer I’m powerless.” Himuro closes his eyes and bites his lip. “I’m afraid of being powerless.”

They are different that way, Himuro knows that, but he can sense concern coming from the bigger man leaning over him and he knows they’re both afraid now, because they both know it to be true. An enforcer has no power, an enforcer… is a dog. A hunting dog.

“Muro-chin…”

“But there is nothing we can do, Atsushi,” Himuro interrupts him softly.

“I… know…”

They’re quiet, Himuro closes his eyes again and Murasakibara gets off in favor of laying on his side, pulling Himuro’s face to his chest, clutching him as he would a stuffed animal. Himuro is used to it, this is what they do, but Murasakibara’s hold is tighter than usual so as Himuro wraps his arms around him return he makes his tight as well. Very tight.

Himuro isn’t Kuroko.

He knows he will fall and when he does he can’t know what will happen. No control, no influence.

He can hope, Murasakibara can hope, Kuroko may try to help, but nothing is guaranteed. They’re plunging into the unknown sky and they don’t know if anything will be there to catch them at the bottom.

As Himuro’s eyes remain closed he remembers that night, feels the pain that Hanamiya had caused him. How different would things have been if Murasakibara never became an enforcer first? How different would things have been if Hanamiya Makoto had never existed? It leaves a bitter taste in his mouth thinking about what ifs, so he pushes it aside.

“Muro-chin?” Murasakibara whispers after several minutes have gone by and Himuro has almost slipped into sleep.

“Hmm, what is it, Atsushi?”

“I won’t let them take you away from me, Muro-chin.” He feels Murasakibara’s lips press against the top of his head.

Himuro smiles sadly. He wants to believe that too. He wants to believe that he is just that lucky, but so far he has no past experience to ease his mind about what is going to happen. Even Nijimura-san knows. Shirogane, probably, also knows.

If there is a glimmer of hope Himuro can’t see it, no matter how much he wants to.

But of course he doesn’t say that.

Instead he whispers: “I know, Atsushi.”

Then they fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Commissioned by thebasketballidiots on tumblr. I really, really hope you all enjoyed it, but especially you Alice who paid for this!!


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